Back From Chaos (6 page)

While Klast had no idea of it, this was his lucky day. He had wandered into Bargia, into the village of Ilonja, under the jurisdiction of Justice Grinth, a fair man who could not be bought.

The good missus put a mug of hot cider into Justice Grinth’s hand and bade him take the chair Saevin had vacated. Then she recounted in great detail the events of the morning. When she finished, Grinth thanked her and turned his full attention to Klast.

“
Now, boy, this is your chance. You have, no doubt, a revealing tale to tell. Tell it truthfully, and fully, and you may save yourself. Do not lie. I will surely know it. Then we will speak of what your fate may be.”

Klast had assessed Grinth while he had spoken with Missus Larn. He could not mistake the keen mind that dwelt behind those grey eyes. Grinth was not a man to be trifled with.

Klast told his story tersely, leaving out many sordid details. But he did not lie. There seemed no point. These people would surely treat him no worse than Rand had.

While Klast spoke, he saw that Justice Grinth watched him closely.

Grinth seemed to be able to tell when Klast held something back. Finally, he looked at Missus Larn.

“
Missus, what do you think? Will he slit our throats in our sleep? Rob us? Take up with criminals?”

Klast kept his face inscrutable.

“
Or will he obey orders if given a chance?”

Klast held himself rigid and waited.

“
I warrant ’e be no killer, Master Grinth. As for the rest …” she trailed off with a small shrug.

Grinth made up his mind.

He gave Klast a hard look. “You will accompany me to Bargia Castle to be trained as a soldier. I will leave it to you what you wish to divulge of yourself. The only story the commander will hear from me is that I found you living by your wits and offered you this opportunity. Only Lord Bargest will hear your true past. He needs to know the risk he is taking.”

The next came almost as an afterthought, but Klast was not fooled.

“
I will have your information about Rand and his cronies checked.” Grinth regarded Klast through lidded eyes.

Klast gave him no reaction. He kept the skills he had learned firmly in place, the same skills that would serve him so well in his role as spy. It would not be until much later that he would learn to kill.

Klast took to military training with a fierce intensity. Yet he never fit into the social life of the barracks, but kept determinedly apart. His reputation as a strange loner without feeling grew.

Eventually, Klast was given individual assignments that required his particular skills. His unique abilities, coupled with his immaculate record, led to missions of greater importance.

Lord Bargest began to include him in private strategy discussions with his advisory council. It was one such meeting that led to his first killing. Lord Bargest had received intelligence about a traitor in their upper circles, a man of status who had the trust of the most influential members of the court. To prove his treason would be extremely difficult, and would lead to rifts that could damage the security of Bargia. Lord Bargest charged Klast with bringing back proof of treason, and if treason was proven, to dispose of the traitor in such a way that no suspicion would come to Lord Bargest or his advisors. He fulfilled his duty and removed the threat.

Klast hated killing, but in each such assignment he clearly understood the need. Thankfully, the need did not arise often. He had learned very young to get by on little sleep. It was the only way to keep the nightmares at bay.

In time, Klast had earned the position of trust that placed him at the right hand of the lord of Bargia. His loyalty remained unassailable.

***

Now, he watched Gaelen assume the mantle of power as though born to it. Gaelen’s actions had been decisive and well thought out, if somewhat unusual. Klast wondered how many of his advisors understood what it cost Gaelen to hide his uncertainty and keep up his appearance of strength. Klast understood. He had known Gaelen almost all his life. They had spent many pleasant hours discussing strategy, sparring in weapons practice, hunting and on lesser missions together as Gaelen came of age.

Klast could see through Gaelen’s mask of confidence. Gaelen had desperately needed to hear that he approved of his current plan. If Klast had not supported it, Gaelen might have succumbed to the pressure from Sinnath and Janest. The council might have become divided, and Gaelen’s control might have crumbled. But Klast had seen the value of Gaelen’s strategy and approved it. His response to Gaelen had held nothing back. Gaelen needed a truthful supporter, and Klast felt honoured to provide it. He knew he would do whatever it took to keep Gaelen safe and in power. Bargia needed Gaelen. And Gaelen needed Klast.

So Klast slipped unnoticed through Catania, eyes and ears open, senses alert.

~ 8 ~

WHAT NOW?

The door had barely closed behind Klast and Gaelen before Argost, Janest, and Sinnath all began talking over each other. All three stopped at the same time, looked at each other and laughed at their own lack of discipline. A fine way for the most influential men of the land to conduct themselves!

Argost leaned toward the others, placing his hands on the table in front of him, and took the lead. “Friends, this has been a day of great changes. We have lost and gained a lord, won a battle and lost many good soldiers, many of them friends who leave behind families. We have added a demesne, passed tests and survived to talk about it. Our new lord is proving to be his own man. Given time and experience, it is my opinion that he will be a strong and able leader. Yet he is young and untried. He will need us sorely in the next months if he is to come into his birthright with his lands and authority intact, especially if he is to avoid rebellion in Catania. We have, all three, sworn to support him and to uphold his sovereignty. We must show unity before the people. It is critical we keep any questions and disagreements within our closed council. Can we agree on that much?”

Argost looked first to Janest, who nodded solemnly, apparently having come to the same conclusion.

“
To withhold support for Lord Gaelen at this juncture would throw Bargest into chaos. He is the legitimate heir. That alone will buy time from those loyal to his father. They will wait to see what kind of leader he is before they consider treason. I have known Gaelen all of his life. I was his history tutor and taught him diplomacy. He has often sought unorthodox solutions, but they were always well thought out. He is a man of reason who will hear arguments from all quarters before making decisions. I also know him to be honourable. This scheme to take Cataniast’s daughter to wife worries me. Yet, that alone is not reason enough to withhold support. I say we do as he requests. We owe him the chance to prove himself. And there is always the problem of who would succeed him. The alternatives strike me as most undesirable.”

Sinnath sat back in his seat with arms crossed and a frown on his face. He had remained silent while Argost spoke. Now he leaned forward with the deliberate posture of a man about to make a formal speech.

“
Friends.” He paused and met the eyes of first Janest and then Argost. “You know me to be a traditional man. I am the one who advises caution, who argues for the known ways ahead of the untried. What you both say has merit. Gaelen is our rightful lord. Therefore we owe him our allegiance. That is the way it ought to be, the way it has worked for hundreds of years. And so I pledge to obey my liege lord. If, at some time in the future, that is shown to be dangerous to our people, I might be persuaded to reconsider. At the current time, to disobey my liege lord would make me traitor, a decision I am unwilling to even consider. Yet this proposal to wed Cataniast’s daughter does not sit well with me in the least. It goes against proven wisdom, and I fear it may be our undoing.”

“
We are agreed then to support Gaelen for now?” Argost drew the meeting to a close. When the others nodded agreement, he suggested they return to their encampment to sleep. “Tomorrow will be another long day, my friends,” he said as he stood to leave.

~ 9 ~

HONOURED PRISONER

As luck would have it, the room chosen for her had been her own … was it only yesterday? Then she had been free to move about as she pleased. No one would have dared question where she went or what she did. She had been the lord’s daughter. Yesterday, Marja had been the one giving orders. She had had ladies to wait on her.

She wondered how young, innocent Brensa, and cheerful Nellis who expected her first child, had fared. Had they escaped? Had they been raped or killed … or both? She shuddered suddenly at that thought. Was Nellis’ man alive and still able to care for her? She could only hope they had found safety and remained well.

Now, she entered her own chamber as a captive. The irony was not lost on Marja. It almost made her weep. No fine clothes, no bath, no one to dress her hair or exclaim over her gown. No one to keep her company, laugh at her jokes or serve her tea and cakes. A prisoner behind a locked door. Forbidden to speak to anyone. Alone.

When the door shut behind her and the bar slid into the lock, Marja took stock. She could find not so much as a needle to use for embroidery to pass the time. Gaelen had scoured the room before he left to make sure there were no sharp objects and no possible means of escape. She recognized the bed as her own, but the pillows and blankets had been cobbled together from various sources. They smelled of smoke and were smeared with soot and grime, but they would serve their purpose. The mattress was straw, not the featherbed she was accustomed to. No hangings remained on the walls or draperies over the window slit. But a comfortable chair had been found, and a table stood in one corner. On it waited a tray holding a pitcher of fresh water and more bread and cheese, also a handful of dried apple slices and some butter and honey.

On a stand in the other corner a wash basin held a ewer of tepid water. There was even a sliver of soap. She picked it up idly to smell it … rosemary. She also found a brush for her hair but no polished silver disc to view herself in. Two cloths hung on a hook on the wall beside the basin, a small one for washing and a larger for drying off with. They had even laid a fairly clean nightshift across the foot of the bed. Someone had gone to a good deal of trouble under difficult circumstances to see to her comfort. She hoped to Earth it was a good omen.

When she opened her old chest at the foot of the bed, she was surprised to see that the looters had missed one of her old gowns. It lay crumpled in the bottom corner. While it smelled of smoke, like everything else, it looked clean. She would be able to make herself presentable tomorrow. That would help her appear stronger when Gaelen returned for her decision.

Suddenly the events of the day caught up with her. She felt weary beyond thinking. The bed seemed to call out to her. She knew she should be considering what Gaelen had told her, but her mind could not hold a coherent thought. To be able to think clearly, she needed at least a few spans sleep. She tried to remember … had he said he would return this afternoon or not until tomorrow? After all, it had been almost dawn when he brought her here. Surely he meant tomorrow. He had said he needed to rest, too. Yes, that must be what he meant. She could afford a few spans sleep.

She forced herself to strip down, wash, put on the nightdress and brush as much of the grime and dust from her hair as possible. It was a small attempt at control, to stave off complete despair. Then she lay down on the bed and fell quickly into a restless sleep. Her dreams were filled with blood, screams and fire. And of Gaelen trying to kiss her, then turning into a demon with hungry, leering eyes, attempting to devour her.

~ 10 ~

ROUGH JUSTICE

Sinnath faced the distasteful duty of punishing those soldiers who had raped or injured women and young girls. Discipline had broken, and now it fell to him to decide who would be punished and what form that would take. The most difficult part would be determining who was guilty. Men would be loath to inform on their mates. Victims would hesitate to come forward with what they would consider their ultimate shame and degradation. Mothers would cover their daughter’s reputations as much as possible. Or go to the opposite extreme of making false accusations, especially if their loved one had been killed or maimed. Sinnath knew that disciplinary action needed to be swift and decisive, both to reinforce the laws within the army and to demonstrate to Catanians they would be treated fairly.

He decided that each soldier found guilty of rape would receive five lashes in the public square. One captain argued for leniency, claiming battle frenzy as an explanation. Sinnath quickly silenced him with the reply that others had not succumbed to battle frenzy, and that he had failed in his duty to maintain discipline in his men. He informed captains that they must round up the accused and advise them of their sentences. A captain’s non-compliance meant demotion to regular foot soldier … or dismissal.

“
First, request that victims come forward and point out the guilty.” He looked at Mesor, the captain who had protested, and gave him the names of the two men he had himself witnessed raping a young woman. “You will take these men, strip them to the waist, and tie the first to the post. The other will await his turn under guard. All soldiers not on patrol must gather in the square to watch. I want no further incidents of this nature.”